Work with me, people (the Corona Chronicles)

“Let’s go. Wait, where’s Stevie?”

“I told you teenagers sleep late.”

“We’ve got six people. This chart shows the day in 30-minute increments. Each person has a designated workspace and device. We’ll have two breaks to evaluate progress and lunch together at Noon.”

“Sheesh, recruiter said I couldn’t join the Army without a diploma.”

“Why does Acie get the kitchen table and Marq the new IPad?”

“None of my friends have to work more than two hours a day. This sucks.”

“Work with me, people. This is the greatest opportunity for family connection we’ve ever had.”

Fiction 101: The goal is to write a story in 101 words or less.

Enough (the Corona Chronicles)

Reality TV crews followed the Newton’s, drooling for the pain and grief of quarantine life.

Stereotypes were everywhere. Bess, Mom a cutthroat executive. Jake, the unemployed closeted gay Dad. Sammi, the (secretly) pregnant drop out. Drake, the cute, funny son. And Fritzie, the loveable dog.

Week one drew viewers as the family adjusted to being all together, all the time. Ratings jumped week two as outbursts edged near violence. After episode three the show was cancelled.

A national critic noted, “It’s bad enough we’re all living this every day. We don’t need it jammed down our throats at night.”

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

Thanks for asking (the Corona Chronicles)

That first week was briefly idyllic, an extended vacation with the welcome absence of oft-repressive obligations. Week two brought a disorientating awareness of the shift in commitments and relationships that long justified my existence. By week three I was overwhelmed with the contradiction of increasing time and decreasing motivation. The fourth week brought ego bruises painfully revealing my inability to turn this chaos into some golden opportunity. 

By six, seven and eight I had devolved to maintaining basic needs while bargaining with the almighty for any possible escape.

Thanks for asking. So, how are you handling the quarantine?

Fiction 101: Tell a story in 101 words or less.

Essentials? (the Corona Chronicles)

Trying to be stealth I parked in the back and wore a mask. Maybe I should’ve gone to another store.

Grabbed eggs, milk and bread; everybody needs eggs, milk and bread. Tried to think what else would look good. Dodged a neighbor with a quick corner-aisle redirection move. Dumped random stuff in the cart. Went to the checkout with the “college kid” who could care less about me or what I bought. 

225 dollars, geeze. Better than being embarrassed by family and friends for violating the Governor’s Orders when I only needed ice cream…you know, essentials. And the beer.

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

COVID-19 hits home(s) - (the Corona Chronicles)

This collection of "Fiction 101" short stories (101 words or less) are told from the perspective of six different kids reflecting on life in the daily reality of the Coronavirus.

Taylor

Mom takes care of old folks and Dad works at a farm. I watch the little ones.

It’s tough doing schoolwork when my brother and sister are crying, fighting or hungry. I try to keep up but sometimes the Wi-Fi goes out. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

I wish we could get food from school, but my parents are always working. I have to fix dinner for everyone every day. Why can't Grandma be with us?

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Sophie

During the virus thing we’re staying at Dad's. Mom works at the hospital, so she’s really busy. He lets us sleep late. We eat breakfast and check in with school, do some work, play video games and chat with friends. Dad focuses on his stuff until we get noisy.

At lunchtime Dad asks questions to check how we are doing. If we can make him think we’re caught up we get free time. There’s not much to do, so we get bored. I sure miss my friends.

                           

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Ash

Mom’s usually working on her computer or texting with friends. Dad keeps yelling on the phone, reminding people he’s the boss. At least when they are high they leave us alone. We’re lucky when we get take-out because neither of them cooks worth shit.

I try doing schoolwork. When I need help from Mom she’s busy with the baby. And Dad’s he tells me it’s my responsibility. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Joseph

Dad calls, “Up and ready.” for breakfast by 7. At 7:30 Mom starts with “Write about three things you learned yesterday.” Next Dad breaks from his work for Math and Science. Mom does PE before lunch. Then we get 30 minutes on our own, no screens. Next back to Mom for History. An old movie if we’re lucky.

We do afternoon chores until dinner. Finally 30 minutes of screen time, hopefully connecting with friends. The day ends with reading time and bed by 9:30.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Tony

Dad’s trying to teach his third graders while helping me do my Middle School stuff. He gets edgy quick sometimes. Mom’s gone a lot for her job at the clinic.

When Mom’s home she gets ticked at Dad because he gets frustrated with me. She says things like, “You’re a teacher.” or, “You need to be more patient.” Which kinda makes him more frustrated.

By the afternoon I’m glad we’re done with school. I sure miss my friends.

                           

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Jade

At Mom’s house she bitches about Dad leaving us. At Dad’s we hear about the “Assholes that took my job.” It’s best when he’s drunk and not hitting us. We’re lucky when they remember to get food on school pick-up days.

I try doing schoolwork each day. When I need help from Mom she’s on her phone. At Dad’s he’s usually in his room with his new girlfriend. Teachers are nice and keep checking in, but I sure miss my friends.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll make it until school to starts again.

Gram promised

It was always just Gram and me.

One afternoon I told her Billy took my sandwich. She said, “Be nice, he’ll change.” He didn’t.

Told her high school boys, from around the corner, stole my bike. Gram said, “They’ll bring it back.” I found a twisted frame and slashed tires.

Boss accused me of taking money to cover his own thieving. She said, “You can always get another job.” I couldn’t.

Got arrested for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time with the wrong people. Gram said, “I’ll visit you every week.”

She can’t. Cancer, last month.

Fiction 101 - The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

What else could I do? (the Corona Chronicles)

I’ve been trapped in that apartment. Living on the first floor I hear everything.

Next door either that baby’s crying or the parents are arguing over whose turn it is to change diapers. Above me it’s always video games and movies at full volume. Maybe I should offer to buy them headphones.

But A-9 was always so quiet. No toilet flush. No slammed doors. No whisper of conversation. Sad that she got so sick and died so alone. I’m sorry, wish I’d known. I would have done something. You’re sure it was the virus, right, Officer?

Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

I'm dealing with it, I promise (the Corona Chronicles)

Denial

Time, time, time, getting time back as commitments and obligations evaporate. My proverbial dreams coming true.

Anger

Barrage of internet jokes and memes are becoming too cute, too hollow and too real.

Bargaining 

Daily, like I know what day it is, I vacillate between, “This isn't bad, I have everything I need.” and “This is crazy, when will it end?

Depression

Family, friend, neighbor, co-worker… me? When and how close will it hit?

Acceptance

Do I have any choice, power or control? Providence, fate, karma, coincidence, or divine plan? You tell me.

* With thanks to Kuebler-Ross & Kessler
Fiction 101 - The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.

August Family Outing

It’s the Oregon Coast, the water is freezing. Biting wind stings my freckled skin, which will be neglected and burn, guaranteeing pain for days.

Dad starts playfully leapfrogging waves and digging in the sand. He’ll soon progress to drinking and we’ll soon progress to ignoring him. Mom will sit, her eyes, and life, hidden behind over-sized sunglasses.

We’ll hunt shells, chase the tide and make driftwood forts. Eventually devouring whatever we can find for lunch then rushing back to fun and freedom.

For us, this is as close to family and summer as we can hope for.

Fiction 101 - the goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less